


Enlightenment

by nimrod262



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: M/M, Meditation, Nivanfield, One Shot, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28791495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262
Summary: Chris finds himself alone.  He needs Piers.  The trouble is, he can’t remember him.  Cue Ruff to the rescue.I wrote this short one-off last summer, but in all the excitement over a certain virus, I forgot to post it!  Still, it gives you something to read whilst I work up the next chapter of Secrets.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Kudos: 5





	Enlightenment

**Author's Note:**

> I have always imagined Piers practicing meditation in my main AU, it’s a Californian thing. And so I imagine him encouraging Chris to try as well. Anything that might help to heal his broken Captain.

The naked man entered into a light so bright, he had to shield his eyes. And so he stopped. After a moment, he began to turn his head slowly from side to side. If he couldn't see, he reckoned he could at least still listen. He wasn't a soldier for nothing. A good one. He heard the silence. As his dark brown eyes grew accustomed to the light, he lowered his hands. He looked at them, and his arms, curiously. The grazed knuckles and familiar scars on his forearm looked back at him, unblinking. He had to admit, he was slightly disappointed. He'd never got this far before, and he'd thought perhaps his body would be different. Renewed. Or purified somehow. Cleansed. But it wasn't. It was the same old body. Battered and bruised by a career in combat. Marked for life. And naked. Was that meant to happen? He didn't know. He shrugged his broad shoulders. Oh well, birthday suit it was then. Different game, different rules.

"So, where am I?" he asked out aloud, seeking confidence in hearing his own voice. But his words were swallowed up in the emptiness.

He scanned what would have been the horizon, if it had been there. A slow, complete 360, like he'd been taught long, long ago. Before it became instinctive. He paused. Something way over there, to the right. A dot.

"Ok, since it's all there is, I'll go take a look." He'd made his mind up and was taking action. It was satisfying, comforting.

He walked confidently towards it. That, at least, felt normal. The easy roll of his powerful hips, the sway of his broad shoulders. It was much less a walk, more a bravado swagger. But that was how he'd walked for the last twenty years. As much a part of him now as the scars and his musculature. And as familiar as his thoughts and his fears. There were plenty of those. Perhaps that's what this was all about. He'd said that, a man. But try as he might, he couldn't remember his name just now. Or his face. But he knew he was important. Perhaps he was the dot?

After what seemed an age, it wasn't getting any closer, the dot. He tried running, the long, easy strides eating up . . . what? Not the distance. The dot still remained on the non-horizon. Time then? The man had also said time and distance might appear distorted.

"Think dammit! I'm only a minute away. Now I'm half a minute." The dot got closer.

"Ha! Well, hello there, old friend." He smiled in recollection, and put out his hand.

It was a chair.

He ran the calloused hand over it's back. The hand-carved contours as familiar as when he'd made it. What, thirty five years ago? The first real piece of furniture he'd ever made. It had been for his mother.

He scanned the horizon that wasn't there once more. It seemed he and the chair were all there was. He shrugged his shoulders again. He suddenly realized he did that a lot. An habitual reaction to the constant disappointments of life perhaps? The small, irritating ones maybe. He knew very well how he reacted to the big, ugly bastard ones. Badly. That's why he was here. Wherever here was.

"Oh well, when in Rome."

He sat down on the chair. His chair, no, his mother's chair. And then there she was, filling his field of view.

"Mom?" He smiled.

They say you come into this world alone. That's not quite true. Your Mother is there too, and sometimes, hovering in the background, your Father. Like he was at this moment.

"Sir?"

Even now, he found the old habits died hard. Naked, sat on a chair that no longer existed, in a place that didn't exist either, yet he'd still called his father Sir.

They looked at him, as if waiting for him to take the initiative. So he said the first thing that entered into his head. Or was it the first thing on his mind?

"Why did you go? Why did you leave us? I wasn't ready, she wasn't ready. It wasn't fair, you know? It wasn't . . ."

He felt the tears well up in his eyes, felt the wetness as they splashed on his bare legs.

"Why'd you do it . . . Huh? It wasn't time."

They smiled back at him, but didn't speak.

****************************

In the Japanese style garden, the big black and tan shepherd dog whined in concern. His two dads were sat next to each other under the cherry tree. Cross-legged, palms held upward on their knees. They had been silent for an unusually long time. He licked one of them. No.2 Dad didn't respond, and he felt strangely cold to the dog's sensitive nose. Tears were falling down his cheeks. Then the dog sniffed No.1 Dad. He didn't respond either, and the dog whined once again in alarm. It nudged it's master's hand and whimpered. It nudged him again. More insistently this time. Growling.

****************************

Hazel eyes opened, swimming back into focus, swimming back into the here and now.

"Ruff? What is it boy?"

The worried dog looked across to his partner and whined, pawing at his feet.

"Chris, Chris?"

There was no response from the bigger man. His eyes were closed tight, lost in deep contemplation. Piers didn't want to wake him, it might prove a shock, but he could try and join him. He'd heard about it, but never actually tried before. Now might be a good time. He took his partner's hands in his. They felt leaden, icy to the touch. A drop of water splashed on his own hands. It was then he saw that Chris was crying.

****************************

His parents still hadn't replied, but they had continued to smile. And now they had been joined by other faces from out of his past. They surrounded him on all sides. He was embarrassed by his nakedness, and he was increasingly afraid of his apparent isolation. Was he being judged? What had the man said? The one whose name he couldn't quite remember. There, on the tip of his tongue, then lost, like sand running through his fingers. Then it came back to him.

"Suck it up! That's what he said. Suck it up!"

He looked up at the myriad of faces, feeling more confident now he'd remembered the advice.

"I'd do it all again, you know. Oh, I might finesse things a bit, certainly try and save as many of you as I could knowing what I know now. But that's just it. I didn't know then. How could I? Essentially, things would turn out the same. I am what you see. You've all had a hand in that. If you want to judge me, fine, judge away. But you're not just witnesses. You're accomplices too. So judge yourselves as well as me. Then he heard his name being called, from a long way off.

"Chris, Chris?"

He saw someone walking towards him. A young man, his face in shadow, silhouetted against the intense light. He waved his calloused hand excitedly. He was glad to have some company.

"Over here."

The younger man smiled. He could see him more clearly now.

"It took me a while to find you."

"My 'Man'!"

"Er, yes."

"They're judging me."

"Who?"

He gesticulated with his hands.

"Them. All of them. All the people I've ever loved who've died."

The young man looked around, confused. "I don't see anyone."

"They were here. Sitting in judgement."

"That's not how this works."

"It isn't?"

"No. You were judging yourself. That's why you're sitting. Nice chair. You make it?"

"Yes. So it was only me?"

"Yes, just you Chris. And now I think it's time you came home."

"Alright. I'd like that."

"Good. Come on then. This way."

"Um, why are you wearing clothes and I'm naked?"

"Cos it's not my enlightenment."

"Ah! I see."

"What was the verdict?"

"Juries still out."

"Oh."

"Thanks for finding me though. Er, sorry, this is embarrassing. I know I know you, but I can't remember your name."

"Chris? It's me, Piers. Remember?"

****************************

"Chris? It's me Piers. I'm here Babe, wake up!"

"Piers? Is it really you?"

"Who else?"

"Thank God!"

"If you're gonna' thank anyone, it should be the Ruffster. He alerted me to your situation."

"He did? Come here, good boy!" He made a fuss of the big dog. "Wow, that was some trip!"

"Um, we prefer the term Enlightenment. Trip has other, er, chemical connotations. How do you feel?"

"Good. It was a bit of a shock, seeing Mom and Pa, and then the others. But I got a few things off my chest. Quite a few. Good job it's a big chest. Ha!"

"Sure you're Ok?"

"Yeah. Thanks for finding me though. I felt alone. That was the worst part. I couldn't remember your name or face. You weren't there, beside me. That was odd. What was all that about?"

"Meditation is a very personal journey. It's individualistic. I wasn't in your past, not as your partner anyway. So, logically, I wasn't part of your experience."

"Hmm, you were, a bit. I remembered one of your favorite sayings, even if I couldn't remember you."

"Oh, what was it?"

"Suck it up. That's what I told myself to do, when I thought they were all judging me, even though it was me doing it all along."

"Heh, heh. That expression is gonna' haunt me for the rest of my life. And did you? Suck it up I mean?"

"Oh yeah, big time. I know where some of my biggest issues come from now. My anger, my problems with authority, my sense of guilt at all those I couldn't save."

"That's good Babe. Thing is, did it help?"

"Well, I unburdened some problems and sucked some more up. Ha! Yeah, I think it helped. Time will tell I guess. But thanks Ace."

"What for? You did it yourself."

"You got me into this meditation thing. I went along with you when we started, to please you more than anything. I didn't have any expectations. Then Wham!"

"I'm glad. It's good for you Chris. It could help your PTSD."

"Hey, enough about me. How did you do?"

"Um, Ok."

"Just Ok? Come on Piers, give. I was reduced to a blubbing wreck, and you stayed Mr Cool. How come?"

"I was trying to understand one person from my past, that's all."

"Who?"

"Jake Muller."

"Wow, tough gig! How'd it go?"

"Er, I still hate him, more than ever."

"Suck it up Piers."

"Don't! You'd never forgive Wesker."

"Damn straight!"

"Heh, heh! I think that's enough meditation for today."

"At the least! It's still weird I couldn't quite remember you though. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Anyway, there shouldn't be any hang-ups between us."

"You sure?"

"Let me prove it. You were naked you say?"

"Um . . ."

"So let's start with the shirt."

"Piers! What are you doing?"

"Let me enlighten you . . ."

**Author's Note:**

> Sir Ruffington III, Ruff, is the creation of RedfieldandNivans. My thanks guys, as ever, for his loan!


End file.
